I’ve given my sermon the
title “What happened in church?”
Interestingly, one of my Princeton Seminary professors, the late Dr.
Donald Macleod, had a sermon with the title “Something happened in church”,
based on this same passage from Isaiah. These
are two very different sermons, and I didn’t consult Dr. Macleod’s sermon in
preparing this one. (Actually, I don’t
even own a copy of that particular sermon.)
Let us pray.
May the words of
my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord
our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
I may be about
to make a very strange – and, perhaps, dangerous - admission, particularly at
the beginning of a sermon.
But here goes anyway.
I often “zone
out” when I listen to a sermon in church.
If you talk to me on Sunday afternoon and the conversation turns to that
morning’s church services, “What was the sermon about?” is a dangerous question
to ask me
It’s not because
of advancing years. If you asked me this
question back when I was in my mid-twenties, I’d have been as vague on the
homiletical content of the typical service I attended then as I would be now in
my mid-sixties.
A better
question to ask me would be “What happened in church?” I could comment at length about the scripture
lessons, the hymns and other music, and the liturgy. I’m mentally engaged during the bulk of the
service, and always have been. But I freely
admit to letting my mind wander during sermons …, and during children’s talks …,
and particularly during the notices.
I don't think I'm alone here.
I don't think I'm alone here.
A big part of
this has to do with the assumption – an assumption I consider to be a false
assumption - made by many congregations and by many worship leaders:
-- regardless of
their denomination,
-- regardless of
their theological emphasis,
-- regardless of
their worship style,
-- regardless of
their musical tastes.
This assumption
is that the average person sitting there in the congregation is there because
he or she wants to learn things about religion.
As a result, the parts of the service in which information is conveyed
to the congregation (sermon, children’s talk, notices) are treated – in
practice, at least, if not in theory – treated as being much more important
than the rest of the service.
I think that
assumption is a rather large mistake to make.
I believe the typical person who shows up at a worship service, whether
a regular worshipper or an infrequent one, is there because she or he wants to
experience a relationship with the God worshipped by the congregation, not
because they want to learn information about religion.
The fact that so
many congregations and worship leaders don’t “get” this – particularly in
churches with a middle-of-the-road, teaching-learning worship style such as the
Uniting Church – is (in my opinion) one of the main reasons why churches like
ourselves have been clobbered in recent decades in areas of membership and
attendance: a far more important reason I
believe for the emptying of the churches than questions of theology, biblical interpretation, or sex. People want to experience God when they turn
up in church, rather than merely learning stuff about religion.
We need to
remember that the typical person who
shows up at a worship service, whether a regular worshipper or an infrequent
one, is there because she or he wants to experience a relationship with the God
worshipped by the congregation.
Thus, we need to be
aware that the “main course” of our worship is what we do when we gather around
the Lord’s Table to celebrate the presence of the risen Christ. The part of our worship we’re doing now is
the appetizer. I want to make it as good
an appetizer as possible, but nevertheless the appetizer leads up to the main
course.
Looking at our
lesson from the book of Isaiah, the prophet was in the Temple, the place of public
worship. He spoke of his experience of worship.
-- He was caught up
into the cosmic praise of the Living God involving all creation.
-- He was
confronted with his own shortcomings, yet also heard the clear word of God’s
mercy, grace, and transformation.
-- He experienced
God’s call to service, and responded with a clear, “Here am I, send me!”
For Isaiah, worship
was not merely something cerebral. (Nor
was it something merely emotional.) For
Isaiah, something happened in worship: something
real, something genuine.
So may it be for
us.
Thanks be to
God. Amen.
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